


Green Dot, Red Dot

by Oboeist3



Category: Welcome to Hell, w2h
Genre: Alive AU, Also some Ace Jonathan, M/M, Mentions of suicide and depression (nothing explicit though)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 11:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2620916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oboeist3/pseuds/Oboeist3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chatrooms are odd things. Little parcels of people, talking across lines of text. You can do a lot in them, laugh, cry, contemplate everything. Jonathan Combs has done his fair share of everything. However, nothing could prepare him for a boy from Alabama named Sock Sowachowski.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green Dot, Red Dot

The username blinks back at Jonathan in the darkened room, the light of it dancing off piles of clothes and the guitar resting on his bed, superhero and band posters on his wall. Sock Sowachowski. Part of him scoffs at the idiocy of putting their actual name on the internet, but it’s late, and he should be doing his homework, so he clicks on the name and types out a three letter message.

sandwichlover101: hey

There’s nothing for a moment, and then dots blink at the bottom of the screen, indicating this Sock was typing.

Sock Sowachowski: Hello!

The message practically screams eagerness, the kind generally frowned upon on these sort of sites, the digital pools of teen angst. It’s a little refreshing though, seeing something other than despair and apathy. Not that he’s any better.

sandwichlover101: what’s up

Sock Sowachowski: Not much. You?

sandwichlover101: same

They’ve reached an impasse, the crucial moment where one decides whether to continue on or get out as soon as possible. And even though the guy hasn’t said anything indicative, Jonathan is curious.

sandwichlover101: is your name seriously Sock?

Sock Sowachowski: Yep!

sandwichlover101: huh

Sock Sowachowski: What about you?

sandwichlover101: Jonathan

Sock Sowachowski: That’s a nice name!

sandwichlover101: thanks

Sock Sowachowski: Where are you from?

sandwichlover101: what are you some kind of creeper?

Sock Sowachowski: No, just curious.

Jonathan takes a moment to consider this. He certainly doesn’t seem malicious. Besides, he’s not exactly going to be able to track him just by knowing what state he lives in.

sandwichlover101: Colorado

Sock Sowachowski: Cool, a proper Yankee! I’m from Alabama.

sandwichlover101: so you’re like a redneck

Sock Sowachowski: Nah, I live in Montgomery. ‘Bout as far from country as you can get.

sandwichlover101: better than this nowhere

Sock Sowachowski: Maybe. I don’t live there.

Sock Sowachowski: How old are you then?

sandwichlover101: 15

Sock Sowachowski: Me too!

sandwichlover101: small world after all

Sock Sowachowski: Hey, no need to be a mope.

sandwichlover101: whatever

He types out the message on impulse, even though he’s actually kind of interested.

sandwichlover101: what do you like to do? besides tell your life story to strangers on the internet

Sock Sowachowski: I haven’t told you /that/ much.

Sock Sowachowski: I’m in Mu Alpha Theta, the math club. Robotics team. I like nature too. Squirrels are cool.

sandwichlover101: so you’re a nerd

Sock Sowachowski: I refuse to be judged until you tell me what you like.

sandwichlover101: i don’t know. sandwiches.

sandwichlover101: music? i like music i guess. Vahalla’s Soundbox has some good songs.

Sock Sowachowski: I have no idea what that is.

sandwichlover101: seriously? you’re unbelievable.

Sock Sowachowski: Well excuse me. I’ll just look them up.

A few moments pass before the dots reappear.

Sock Sowachowski: Oh my god. ‘Grave of the Cockroaches?’ This is an emo band. You are an emo.

Normally, Jonathan might try to defend himself, point out that it was rock and roll, not death and despair. But it was one in the morning, and he should be doing his homework, and he doesn’t have the energy to argue with this overexcited nerd on the internet.

sandwichlover101: probably. at least i’m not a nerd like you.

Sock Sowachowski: Us nerds actually get somewhere in life. Just you see. Ten years from now I’m going to be a CEO and you’ll be a cubicle worker.

sandwichlover101: we’ll see

Sock Sowachowski: What? No protests, claims of intelligence?

Sock Sowachowski: Shit, it’s my Dad. I’ve got to go. Wanna talk tomorrow? I’m usually on after school.

Surprisingly, Jonathan doesn’t even have to think about it before he types his response.

sandwichlover101: sure

* * *

Over the next few months, Jonathan gets to know a lot about the boy from Alabama named Sock. He learns that Sock is even more of a nerd than he originally thought, with a GPA of 4.2 and a friendship with his Trigonometry teacher. But he also likes some normal things, comics for instance, and they’ve spent many hours debating the pros and cons of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. He learns that Sock’s parents aren’t around much, and that Sock’s best friend, Jojo, spends half the time treating him like some sort of alien. It comes to the point that one day, Jonathan realizes he’s the closest thing Sock has to a real friend, and it’s not a one sided phenomenon. Before Sock he had some acquaintances, people from his classes, a football player named Zach, his private lesson teacher, but they’re not the sort of people you can talk about everything and know they won’t judge. It was this trust in Sock, formed over banter and teasing and support, that convinces him to share the secret he’s held tightly to his chest for a long time.

sandwichlover101: hey sock?

The message seems tiny on the screen, yet the power in those two words could change everything.

Sock Sowachowski: What is it? Is everything alright?

sandwichlover101: yea, it’s just….something i wanted to tell you.

Sock Sowachowski: That you’re a huge emo? ;)

sandwichlover101: a bit more serious than that.

Sock Sowachowski: Oh.

Sock Sowachowski: Ok then. Carry on.

Jonathan takes a big breath as his fingers hover over the keys, debating over good ways to say it, but settles for the simplest.

sandwichlover101: I’m asexual.

He expects a long wait, the dots not showing up for minutes, if at all. His previous attempts at coming out had not gone so well. His mother, lovely as she was, simply thought he wasn’t old enough yet, but he knew better. However, he was pleasantly surprised when a new message popped up almost immediately.

Sock Sowachowski: Oh, is that all? I’m super pan man, I’m not one to judge.

sandwichlover101: i wasn’t sure how you’d take it, being from the south and all.

Sock Sowachowski: I understand.

Sock Sowachowski: Hey, does this mean I can talk about how hot Brian Cox is? Because Brian Cox is really hot.

sandwichlover101: the astronomer?

Sock Sowachowski: Did you see him in Cosmos? Skinny jeans are his type of thing.

sandwichlover101: i don’t watch cosmos

Sock Sowachowski: What?! SHAME UPON YE.

sandwichlover101: not all of us are super geniuses

With that, they fell back into their usual banter, but Jonathan couldn’t help the happy feeling that finally there was someone who got it, who took the fact and didn’t try to question him or make him feel invalid. He had a real friend.

* * *

It’s not long after the somewhat anticlimactic confession of sexualities that Jonathan figures out he has some feelings for Sock. The heart fluttery, romantic kind. It’s a little bit of a surprise at the beginning, but logically it makes sense. Sock is his friend, possibly his best friend. He’s smart and funny and pretty cute with his overuse of emoticons. There’s a fair bit of faux flirting from his end so it’s possibly not one sided, and he doesn’t mind the distance, so long as he can meet him someday. No, the only problem is that Sock refuses to show him what he looks like.

A few months ago, he could have got it. It was new, tentative. They weren’t entirely sure the other was really real. But now they know each other’s lives like open books. Sock’s even told him what street he lives on, but not once has he sent a picture. One night, late like their first conversation, he brings it up outright, but his response is downright cryptic.

Sock Sowachowski: I’m sorry Jonathan. I can’t. Not now.

After that, the site says he’s offline, and so he slips into bed and tries to sleep. But he can’t. The words are too overdramatic, too serious for Sock. It doesn’t make any sense. He tries reading, listening to music, but his eyes keep drifting over to the computer, to the little red dot. Until around three in the morning, as his body is finally starting to give in, he sees the light is bright green and a smudge of black at the bottom of the screen.

He dashes over to the computer, squinting until it clears, and feels his blood run cold at the words.

Sock Sowachowski: Hey. I know this isn’t a good time, but my parents

Sock Sowachowski: Let’s just say I won’t be on for a while.

Sock Sowachowski: Maybe forever, if this works out.

Sock Sowachowski: I’m sorry. I’m going to miss you.

sandwichlover101: sock, what’s going on?

sandwichlover101: sock please just tell me

sandwichlover101: sock don’t do anything you’ll regret, you hear me?

sandwichlover101: sock?

There’s nothing, just a little green dot staring back at him, but he doesn’t dare to go back to sleep. How can he? He’s too numb to think, too numb to call 911 or do anything but stare at the screen until finally the dot turns red.

* * *

The next six months are something of a hell for Jonathan. Without Sock around, the days seem longer, more bitter. He burrows himself in a grey sweater and Vahalla’s Soundbox, keeps his mouth closed and his eyes downcast. He knows it’s silly, mourning him even if he isn’t sure he’s dead, but he has to. His mother looks at him with worry, tries to ask him what’s wrong, but what can he tell her? That he lost a friend, a love, a nothing and an everything all at once? Sock would have called that emo, the thought. He blasts Millennia in his room until his ears ring and he can’t think. He feels a little better.

Hearing his name on the TV is a blessing and a curse. His homework is forgotten as he watches the TV, listens to them boredly describe the double homicide of the Sowachowski family and their son with a knife buried in his stomach. He turns off the TV before they show his picture. Sock would’ve wanted it that way. He probably wouldn’t have wanted Jonathan bent over the toilet bowl, heaving until his stomach is empty and his throat burns. Oh well.

* * *

There’s a new kid in school today and he’s following him. He wears the most ridiculous outfit Jonathan has ever seen and a grin too wide for his face. He knocks over a desk, tries to sit with him at lunch, and really sucks at basketball. Every second he spends following around ticks him off more and more, until he finally asks, standing on the threshold of his house, what he wants.

"I-I’m a demon, and I’m here to haunt you? No wait, that was terri-" He closes the door before he can finish. Clearly, this guy is a nutcase.

Maybe he could have kept believing it, if the guy just didn’t stop. Every day he’s there at the bus stop, hovering next to him in class, distracting him at lunch. And no one else seems to see him. He dances like an idiot, and there’s a glowing, dripping hole in his torso. He’s extraordinarily bad at his job, getting Jonathan to kill himself, because for this first time since Sock’s death, Jonathan doesn’t feel so alone.

It’s not until about a week after he first shows up that Jonathan finally asks him.

"So, what’s your name?" he asks, and the demon actually hesitates.

"Um…" He seems to be gathering some courage, biting his bottom lip and curling his fingers tightly. "Sock Sowachowski."

Jonathan goes pale and stares at his personal demon, tries to find some hint that he’s messing with him, using this to try and get him to kill himself. But all he sees is a genuine fragility, terror in those bright green eyes.

His heart breaks into a million pieces all over again, and all he can do is sigh.

"I missed you." he finally says quietly, like a wish on a star. It’s the closest he can get to I love you.


End file.
